Captivating
by dontwaitupxx
Summary: Stiles stops by the coffee shop and meets a captivating barista. So captivating, in fact, that he doesn't notice how she slips a powder into his drink.


Captivating

A Teen Wolf Fan Fiction

By: dontwaitupxx

* * *

The sun was shining that morning. Looking back on it, it really didn't fit in with how their minds perceived that morning to have happened.

It was a Wednesday morning in mid-September of their senior year, and like any good student, Stiles was highly addicted to coffee. His usual routine consisted of waking up, showering, getting dressed, and grabbing a Pop-Tart on his way out the door. He would hop in his Jeep, pick up Lydia, and then stop by the local coffee joint on their way to school. Nothing had been out of the ordinary that morning. Except for the new barista.

Or at least, Stiles _thought_ that she was new. In any case, he had never seen her before, so he had every right to assume that she was new. Beautiful wasn't the right word to describe her; captivating was better. It wasn't that she was beautiful, because sure, she was easy to look at, but there was something about her, something that made him unable to look away, that made her positively captivating.

It was not until he heard Lydia calling his name numerous times that he realized he had been staring.

He whipped his head towards Lydia, slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, what?"

She paid it no mind; "I'm going to the restroom real quick, can you get me a large iced coffee, room for cream and sweetener?"

Simple enough, "Oh yeah, no problem," and with that, she headed off towards the restroom.

And Stiles was the next person in line. He headed up towards the captivating barista, putting on a smile that he thought was charming, but probably ended up looking nerdy.

Her nametag said Lucy in a loopy cursive, and she was holding a black Sharpie in one hand. She looked up at him with the darkest brown eyes, almost black, that he had ever seen, and he could have sworn that the black Sharpie was lighter in comparison.

"What can I get for you?" Lucy, the barista, flashed a captivating smile, her other hand floating over the plastic and paper coffee cups.

He managed to find his words, which was remarkable, considering that he normally made an ass of himself any time he talked to a girl, "I'll take a large iced coffee, with room for cream and sweetener," he said, gesturing towards the restrooms as though it were a metaphor for Lydia, "And a large dark roast coffee, black."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes sending an unknown chill down his spine, "What's the name for the iced coffee?"

"Lydia," Stiles said, the name rolling off his tongue easily, comfortably, and though he could never act upon it, lovingly.

Lucy mouthed the name as she wrote it on the plastic cup, "And how about for your friend in the restroom?"

Stiles laughed, the light joke easy in the early hours of the morning, "Stiles."

She looked up at him, a small smile creeping on her face, "Stiles? What an interesting name."

Stiles scratched the back of his head, a small, nervous laugh escaping from his lips, "yeah…" and then, wanting to change the subject, "Hey, are you new here? I'm usually in every morning, but I've never seen you here before."

"I'm a transfer in from a couple towns over," Lucy said, turning her back to him to pour the coffees, "It's a better commute for me."

She handed over the iced coffee and turned around to pour his drink. It was at that moment that Lydia had come back from the restroom, grabbing her drink and sticking the straw in her mouth, all the while fetching her credit card out from her purse. Naturally, Stiles raised a commotion, screeching about how it was his turn to pay, and to let him feel like a manly man for once, and how she pays for his drinks too many times. With her back towards him, he could have never noticed a fine white powder dashed into his drink while she was pouring it.

She topped her plan off with a lid, and turned around with the drink in hand, a light smile on her face, "Here you are, Stiles."

He took the drink from her as she hit a few buttons on her computer screen, watching as it lit up with both Lydia's order and his. The total came up immediately after, and Lydia swiped her card before Lucy could even say the total amount, and before Stiles could try and pay with his own card. With a sigh and a pout, and a smirk on Lydia's face, they walked out the door towards Stiles's Jeep, hearing the bells jangle from the top of the door. They hopped in the Jeep, and before Stiles turned the ignition, he took a sip of his hot coffee.

"Damn, that's a good blend this morning."

* * *

It was a ten-minute commute from the coffee shop to the school. The ride itself was pretty uneventful, except for Lydia lecturing him on how he needs to get started on his project for Anatomy, and that it was due next week. He had shot back that she wasn't working with him on that project and that it was none of her damn business. She then smugly announced that her project had been finished since Sunday night.

He parked his Jeep in the school parking lot, finding that lone spot in the front that, for whatever reason, no one had parked in. He killed the ignition, grabbed his backpack and his half full coffee cup, jumped out of the Jeep, and felt the world teeter towards the left and right. He scrambled to grab a hold of something, anything, and when he did, he spilled a little bit of coffee on his right arm.

He didn't feel the scorch of the coffee. All he felt was the world spinning around him, an ever present ringing in his ears. He didn't even notice Lydia standing in front of him, looking concerned, but at the same time, not too worried because it's _Stiles_.

Finally, the ringing died down, a cold sweat forming on his forehead and upper brow. He finally heard Lydia saying his name, her features looking a bit more concerned for him.

"Stiles, are you feeling alright?" Lydia asked, her brow scrunching together to form an upside down V.

Stiles took a deep breath, the dizziness disappearing, but an overall hot feeling staying behind, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just got a bit dizzy is all."

Lydia hummed, taking a step back, "You made sure to have breakfast this morning, right? Drinking coffee on an empty stomach will make you a little jittery."

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, I had a Pop-Tart."

Lydia tsked, and reaching towards her bag, pulled out a bag of grapes, and handed them over, "Just in case you need a couple more calories than a Pop-Tart."

Stiles took the bag and put it in the side pouch of his backpack, "Thanks."

He turned around and shut the front door to his Jeep, locked it, and then headed towards the school. He felt Lydia come up beside him and slip her fingers between his.

Ever since their world had become a little bit darker, a little more dangerous, they had all been holding onto each other a little bit longer, a little bit tighter. Stiles and Lydia were in, by no means, a romantic relationship, and Stiles didn't think that they ever could be. He didn't think that anyone in the pack could be romantic with one another after the things that they had all been through. Romantic was a different relationship than the one that they all shared together. As a pack, they had gotten so close that they had surpassed a normal family bond. So yes, people would whisper from time to time about Stiles and Lydia holding hands in the hallway, but between them, it was never a romantic gesture. It was a comforting. By holding onto one another, they could make sure that they all stayed safe.

Together, they walked towards their lockers, which were located in the middle of the school. They weren't side by side with one another, that wouldn't be realistic, but they were about twenty lockers apart. They separated for a moment to go off to their separate lockers, to grab their books for their first few classes. A perk of being two of the smartest people in the school meant that they took all the same advanced leveled courses together, so they spent their entire morning before lunch together. It wasn't until after lunch that Stiles took Spanish and Lydia took French and Stiles opted for a free period, and Lydia opted for Advanced Molecular Biology that they were separated.

Stiles went over to his locker, spinning the combination for his locker. He yanked on it; it wouldn't budge. He sighed and tried again, looking at the numbers on the lock. The numbers on the lock began spinning, twisting, morphing, and Stiles slammed his eyes closed, the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, because _no_ , it was too similar to last year – no, not even a year ago – when he was possessed by the Nogitsune. It was similar, yes, but it had a different feel to it. His eyes felt heavy, along with his limbs extending from his torso, and his chest felt tight, almost like a panic attack, except _no_ , he had been doing so good about not having those anymore, and –

A hand on his shoulder startled him out his thoughts, the tightness from his chest loosening, but not quite. He turned around to see Scott there, a knowing look on his face. Carefully, he took the lock from Stiles's hands and turned the three numbers in the combination knowingly, easily. He had quickly learned these small things about his brother in the aftermath of the Nogitsune, because these near breakdowns happened almost daily. He knew his locker combination, his phone's home screen code, his garage combination. Hell, he was the perfect stalker, but he did it out of necessity and love, and Stiles was grateful that his best friend had his back.

Scott took the lock and yanked down on it, the lock coming undone. Stiles closed his eyes in defeat, "Thanks."

"Anytime," Scott said, taking in a deep breath.

The halted mid-breath however, and turned towards Stiles, sniffing upwards. Stiles could say that he had gotten used to this wolfy thing that his best friend did, but sadly, he didn't think he would ever get used to it.

"You smell strange…" Scott observed, sniffing at Stiles again. Stiles, naturally, looked around, afraid of people sending glances and judgmental looks at them. As usual, no one noticed or cared.

"Like," Scott continued, "You don't smell _bad,_ but I've never smelled this smell before," he paused, going straight for Stiles's jacket sleeve. Just great, one boy smelling another boy's _sleeve_ in the middle of the hallway, totally normal.

Scott narrowed his eyes, "Where were you this morning?"

"Lydia and I went to the coffee shop," Stiles said slowly, black splotches beginning to dance around his eyes. He made the move to kneel down to grab his textbooks, alleviating some of the black splotches.

Scott's hand went to his forehead, "It's strange, you have two distinct smells coming off of you. One is from you, and it's this strange, twisting smell. And then your jacket. Your jacket has this potent smell. It smells evil."

Stiles stifled a laugh, "Well, then maybe we need to burn my jacket at the stake."

Scott let out a hum, "Maybe…" he said, deep in thought.

Stiles stood up with his books in hand, and fought against the black splotches that came back, "Anyways, I'll see you at lunch. I've got a test this period in Psychology."

Scott grinned, "My money's on Lydia getting a higher grade than you."

"Go to hell," Stiles yelled over his shoulder, taking a swig from his coffee cup.

Lydia came up beside him and grinned, "You know, I think you could do better than me."

"Really?"

"No."

* * *

It only took fifty minutes for everything to go downhill. About twenty minutes into their Psychology test, he felt himself break out in a cold sweat and started shivering. About thirty minutes in, Lydia was the first to turn in her paper, and Stiles was struggling to read the questions on his test. Forty minutes in had a headache blossoming behind his eyes. At the fifty minute mark, the school bell rang through one temple and out the other like a sharp knife. His chest was tight in a way that he wasn't used to experiencing. He hadn't even gotten to the essay questions and the professor was collecting the papers, finished or not.

Stiles collected his books and stood up, gripping the side of his desk for support as the world tilted like a ship in a storm. His stomach clenched together, a pain sharpening at the center of it. He stood up as much as he could and forced himself to walk towards the professor's desk, and put the paper on top of a pile. He took his coffee cup, which was still a quarter full, and pitched it in the garbage can.

Lydia met him outside the classroom to walk to their next class. She grabbed his arm in concern, noticing how hot his skin was.

"Stiles, are you okay?" She asked. They were halted in the middle of the hallway, but the students simply walked around them, as though they were an island in the ocean.

"I'm pretty sure I failed that test," was his reply, his eyes glassy and seeing past her at nothing.

"I think you should go home, Stiles," Lydia said, noticing his shivering.

Stiles didn't reply, instead he kept staring past her, swaying back and forth. Suddenly, his stomach painfully lurched, and he tasted copper. Without any warning, he ran to the other side of the school hallway and, throwing his books to the ground, threw up into the trashcan. A chorus of gasps came from the students behind them, but Lydia paid them no mind, coming up behind Stiles and bending down next to him, rubbing his back.

Out of thin air, Isaac showed up beside her, holding onto Stiles. He turned towards her and said "I could smell him from down the hall".

Sure enough, this had Scott coming down the hall towards them. He slid down on his knees as Isaac pulled Stiles up from the trashcan to lean against the wall. Stiles's face had gone white, his lips pale and stained with red.

"What happened?" Scott asked, but was met with empty glances. Lydia already had her phone out and was calling 911.

Scott turned to Stiles, "Stiles, come on buddy, talk to me." Scott was given a look from Stiles that would haunt his nightmares. His best friend looked positively frightened, like he had no idea what was going on. Shivers wracked his body, and his hands were wrapped protectively around his torso. Instinctually, Scott went to grab his hand to leech out the pain, but the moment he touched it, he yanked his hand back as though he had touched a hot stove. The pain coming out of Stiles was unbearable, throughout his entire body.

"Alright, buddy, stay with me, Lydia's calling for help right now," Scott said, grabbing Stiles's hand and seeping out as much pain as he could handle, teeth clenching and eyebrows furrowing.

"I… I…" Stiles tried to get out, feeling the world tilt around him even more violently. The pain in his stomach was travelling upwards, towards his chest. It was difficult for him to take a full breath.

And then, three things happened at once:

Scott was unable to absorb any more pain.

Stiles fell over to the side, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

And a faint tickle formed in the back of Lydia's throat, as one heartbeat teetered out.

Lydia's phone slipped from her fingertips as her hands flew to her mouth, trying to suppress a scream that she knew she couldn't suppress. Scott screamed out Stiles's name as Isaac, the only level headed one of the group, flattened Stiles's body and began a series of compressions and mouth to mouth.

Time seemed to stop, as Lydia looked around her. A group had formed around the four of them, all of them either looking shocked, crying, or blank faced, but clutching one another fiercely. She had to wonder where the teachers were. In reality, this couldn't have been longer than a full 30 seconds. She wasn't even sure if she had gotten all of the information out to the 911 dispatcher. She knew she had said that Stiles had needed help, and that they were at Beacon Hills High School. That was enough information to go off of, right? She's not sure what else she had said. She looked down at her phone: it was shattered into pieces by her feet.

She looked over towards her friends. Isaac was on his second set of compressions while Scott was holding onto Stiles's wrist, searching for a pulse. The itch in the back of her throat grew, and her heartbeat picked up, as she tried to keep it in. She wasn't sure if it were possible, to delay death by suppressing a scream, but she would die trying if it meant that Stiles got an extra couple of seconds to keep trying, to keep fighting to live. She held her breath, held her hands over her mouth, to keep the scream at bay. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw Stiles's extremities begin to tint blue, and her scream for him grew, till it was almost unbearable, and she was fighting against death to hold it in. It fought against her, turning her vision hazy, her hearing buzzing.

And then, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

But in that moment, Stiles's heartbeat fluttered, and then found itself a weak, irregular beat, like a toddler playing a drum set with uncoordinated hands, and Stiles took in a small, weak breath.

That scream that had been just about to explode out of her skull disappeared, and in its absence, Lydia felt lightheaded, falling to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Someone held her from behind her, and turning slightly, saw that it was Danny, holding her close and rubbing her arm. Isaac was leaned up against a locker, his face blank of any emotion, smears of blood on his lips from when he had performed CPR. Scott had pulled Stiles up into his lap and was holding his hand, leeching even more pain than he had been before. He had his other hand in his hair, running it through his fingers, his face close to his brothers as he willed him to wake up, to let him know that he was okay. Even with a heartbeat and breathing, it was still a weak heartbeat, it was still too shallow of breaths, and it scared him.

And Lydia began to cry.

Tears streamed down her face, and Danny held her even closer, and she began wailing, because she's a banshee, and that's what banshee's do: they wail. She cried out of relief, but also out of fear, because she almost witnessed something catastrophic, something absolutely detrimental, and she wasn't sure if she would have survived that day if he hadn't.

When she opened her eyes, she saw EMT's through her tears, collecting Stiles from Scott and putting him on a stretcher. Another EMT was talking to Isaac about what had happened, and though she couldn't hear what he was saying, she was sure he was still keeping a leveled head. Scott was silent, letting them take Stiles from his arms without a fight, and found himself leaning against the lockers.

They took Stiles away, and the hallway cleared out, leaving just Isaac, Scott, Lydia, and Danny there. The principal came by, having been there the entire time (but wow, had they not noticed her) and told the four of them to go home, because after an ordeal like they had, no one would have been able to pay attention in calculus.

Isaac had stood up then and grabbed Lydia's and Stiles's books from her. She gave them to him wordlessly, and he nodded, taking them towards their lockers. Lydia crawled towards Scott, who was sitting propped up against the lockers, and without moving his gaze from his one spot on the ground, opened his arm for her to crawl next to him. And for the next minute or so, they sat like that, not speaking, but holding onto each other like a lifeline.

Because by holding one another, they could make sure that they all stayed safe.

But then the tone shifted, as Isaac walked over from Lydia's locker. In his hand was a sticky note, one that she didn't remember having. Instantly, both her and Scott perked up, leaning forward to grab the note from Isaac's hand. Lydia grabbed it first and turned it around, looking at the note written in black Sharpie, words written in a loopy cursive:

 _This is a warning. Don't get in my way._


End file.
